Page 30 of Miss Determined
I do not splutterwas immediately shouted down in Trevor’s heart byShe likes me.“I meant what I said, Amaryllis DeWitt. You are magnificent and dear, and to blazes with anybody who can’t see that. Take your verbal horsewhip to London with you, if you must go, and be sure to give the solicitors a taste of the lash before you’ve unpacked the first trunk.”
She laughed that gorgeous, warm laugh, and when she half hugged his arm, Trevor knew himself to be a man in deep, deep trouble. The way out of the trouble was simple—shovel aside a barrow full of lies, sort out some apparently crooked solicitors, undertake a proper courtship, and convince the lady that her fortune had nothing to do with Trevor’s besottedness.
Nothing whatsoever.
Lissa could not have said which of Mr. Dorning’s salient qualities—ambition, good looks, horsemanship, helpfulness—most held her attention, but it was his subtle dignity that threatened her composure.
She longed to have such self-possession, to know instinctively which remarks to ignore, which to meet with a witty riposte, and which to quell with a frigid stare. Trevor Dorning intuitively sensed how to carry himself such that he drew the eyerespectfully. He was by nature quiet, with his words, his posture, and his gestures, and rendered himself all the more interesting for making less noise.
Even when he lectured Lissa, he remained self-possessed. Even histantrumwas lordly, for pity’s sake, and that…
“You are provoking me,” she said as they ambled along. “You don’t mean to—your sentiments are purely honorable—but you are most provoking nonetheless.” His sentiments had beenprotective, outraged on her behalf. Whatever was she to make ofthat?
“A gentleman does not provoke a lady. I am trying to… I don’t know what I’m trying to do. You provoked me first.”
Lissa examined the gauzy honeysuckle hedges rather than allow Mr. Dorning to see her smile. “Are there no competent, capable, confident ladies where you come from?” She wanted him to say no, that she was the first he’d met, and he was dumbstruck by her wonderfulness.
“As a matter of fact, I know many such women. I was mostly raised by one, and you would like her. My step-mother has the knack of being formidable while appearing to merely pour the tea and remark on the weather.”
“You have the same quality, and that is what provokes me.” Provoked and beguiled her. His innate self-possession and his protectiveness. “I want to throw you off stride, challenge your assumptions.” She wanted, more to the point, to break rules with him. Not because he importuned her to do so, not because a small compromise of propriety might result in a large gain in security, but because… he purely, joyously,temptedher.
To muss his hair, to wrinkle that pristine cravat or, better still, get it off him. He inspired her imagination to canter down alluring trails that led into dense thickets of longing and self-indulgence. To impossible kisses and satisfied sighs.
When was the last time Amaryllis had been tempted to do something sweet, pleasurable, and flirtatious? She’d been endlessly tempted to deliver set-downs to presuming bachelors or to tell uppish dowagers what she really thought of their bonnets. She’d been tempted to tell Mr. Pevinger and Mr. Dabney that their squabbling made them both look foolish.
She’d been tempted to plead a megrim to avoid Sunday services.
Now, she wanted to learn if and where Trevor Dorning was ticklish.Ye cavorting cupids.
“Are those men you referred to,” he said, “those knaves, still at large in Mayfair, Miss DeWitt?”
Mr. Dorning also apparently tempted Lissa to be much too forthright. “You cannot ruin them. Charles Brompton was an earl’s spare when I met him during my first Season. He’s the heir now, the older brother having succumbed to consumption. I was young and foolish, and he was… I had to leave Town when Papa grew ill, and Mr. Brompton’s attention was drawn elsewhere.”
“He used you.” Three words had never conveyed such utter contempt for a peer-in-waiting.
“‘Use’ implies some scheme, some forethought. I was simply an amusement to him. ‘Get the cit’s daughter to go for a stroll behind the conservatory…’ I thought he and I were courting. He was probably winning a wager or merely passing an idle quarter hour.”
“A quarter hour.” Three more words that summoned an arctic wind of judgment. Whyever…?
How many quarter hours did Mr. Dorning regard as adequate for the same pursuits? How manyhours?
“Titus Merriman beat that record,” Lissa said, determined that Mr. Dorning hear the extent of her folly from her first. “We were most definitely courting. He’d asked Mama’s permission, and the solicitors were negotiating. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, but I did exactly that.”
Lissa had tormented herself with the past, reviewing every conversation and glance, always looking for the exact moment when she’d tossed caution aside. A tactical blunder dissected was one that could be avoided in future.
“I forbid…” Mr. Dorning stopped walking and stared at the distant gateposts while the breeze teased at the lace of his cravat. “Youmust notblame yourself. You trusted that assurances of respect and affection were honestly offered, not lies meant to manipulate you. The scurrilous behavior of a pair of randy jackanapes is no fault of yours.”
Lissa stood in the middle of the road, savoring those words. She had needed for somebody to absolve her of responsibility, or at least ease the burden, and yet, she was to blame as well.Fool me once…
“Men lie, Mr. Dorning. Sometimes to be kind, sometimes to keep the peace, and sometimes for their own benefit. I know this now, and I will not forget it. Papa told us he was merely suffering a little head cold. He was dead two weeks later. Gavin claimed to be jaunting off to Oxford to meet some old school chums. One doesn’t pack a full trunk to nip up the road for a weekend gathering. One doesn’t send that trunk on and hire a livery hack for the journey when one could take the family coach and have shelter from the elements.”
Mr. Dorning took off his hat and ran a hand through blond hair. “Do you know these friends he was supposedly meeting?”
“I’d been introduced to one. Peter Cleverly’s parents own a lot of land around Reading, and he and Gavin shared a passion for Restoration comedies.”
Mr. Dorning tapped his hat back onto his head. “Did they share a passion for each other?”
As awkward as the question was, to leave Charles and Titus in the conversational dust was a relief. “I doubt it. Gavin made a nuisance of himself to the serving maids at the Arms. I suspect he was smitten with Tansy Pevinger for a time—all the young fellows are—and I know he had flirtations with various landladies and so forth at university.”
